Misunderstanding
by You Can Call Me Effie
Summary: Sherlock and Laura get into a slight misunderstanding regarding a New Year's Eve party. From "Idiots".
1. Chapter 1

I blinked. "You want me to what?"

"I want you to be my date for my brother's New Year's Eve party." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I didn't expect you to be this dim when I agreed to let you live in this flat."

I didn't know what to be more offended over. "Wha- hold on a minute, you agreed? Let me? I don't even live here! I live in 221C!"

"You do?" Seriously, Sherly? I raised you better than this.

"Yeah! Since we met!"

"Than why do I see you here every day?" He tilted his head and stared at me. Wow, those eyes are terrifying. Make him stop. "You use my bed and when you don't you're awake and bothering me."

"You see me here every day because my flat's boring and yours has a skull." I began. "I've only used your bed if I was drunk or too tired to go downstairs or the time that one guy broke into my flat and tried to kill me. And I bother you because we're friends and friendship means I can bother you whenever I want to!" Honestly, Holmes, get a grip.

He didn't blink. "I do not agree with your definition of friendship."

How dare he.

"Well, I don't agree to being your date." Ha! That'll show him. He looked kind of offended. Oh. Might've shown him too hard.

"Why not?" I was torn between slapping myself in the face or slapping him. Calm down, Laura. Do not hit the stupid genius currently invading your personal space. But seriously? 'Why not' he says.

"Because we're not dating!"

"Define dating." My eyes widened.

"Oh no." I said, holding up both of my hands and backing further into the couch. "No no no no no. John told me what happened the last time you had a question about dating." He flushed slightly.

"That was a misunderstanding."

"I highly doubt you're understanding the implications of what you're asking me right now."

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "There are no implications."

"Keep looking, doll. You're smart. You'll find them."

He rolled his eyes again. "You know very well that I seek no romantic or sexual relationship from you-"

"Ew! Wait, what's wrong with me, ya punk?"

"-Or anyone else. However, if you would like me to list all of your negative attributes-"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks." No need to tear down my ego, ya dick. "So, if you aren't harboring some weird secret crush on your gorgeous semi-flatmate, than why do you want me to go to Mycroft's stuffy old party with you?"

He rolled his eyes again. You know, one day his eyes are gonna get stuck like that and I will laugh extremely obnoxiously. "I am asking you to accompany me to the New Year's Eve party so that I don't look suspicious as I look for the Woman."

Oh. Duh. "Well, why didn't you just start with that?"

He scrutinized me. "So you will come?"

I snorted. "Hell no, Bellatrix scares the shit out of me."

He squinted. "Bella-?"

"I'll tell you later." This poor child doesn't even know Harry Potter and after this stupid case thing is over and Adler inevitably escapes after harming Sherlock, John, me, or all of the above in some misguided way to gain Sherlock's affection, we are so having a movie marathon.

He nodded, getting back on topic. "That is unpleasant. Unfortunately, as I have already acquired your dress and invitation, you are going anyway."

I crossed my arms. This bitch. "Take Molly."

"That would just put her under the impression that I hold romantic feelings toward her."

I furrowed my brow. "Don't you?"

"No." He rolled his eyes again. Seriously? He rolls his eyes more than a teenage girl who's just discovered punk music. "We just had a conversation about my complete disinterest in romantic partnership."

"Wait, so if you thought emotional complications would arise if you asked her, why ask me? Isn't that more awkward, considering we basically live together?"

Sherlock shrugged. "You are naturally awkward, so that wouldn't have made a difference. Also, John didn't fit in the dress."

I snorted and burst out laughing.


	2. Chapter 2

So, the party didn't go as well as I'd hoped.

It started off great, which should've tipped me off, as these things never start off great. Sherlock had actually picked out a really nice dress, much to my surprise . It was long and red and had a pretty low back but it had long sleeves so that balanced it out. It was also slightly stretched from when John tried it on, but I could live with that.

The problems arose with the shoes. "You want me to wear those?"

Sherlock tilted his head slightly. "You like these types of shoes."

I threw a lip liner at him and then realized I needed it back. "You got me stripper heels!"

"The woman at the shop told me they were special occasion shoes."

"Did she wink at you lecherously after she said that?"

A pause. "I assumed she had something in her eye."

I threw my arms up in exasperation. "After this, I'm getting you laid."

"While I'm flattered by your interest, I -"

"Not by me!"

"Than by who?"

"I don't know! John?"

John paused on his way to the kitchen. "What about me?"

I pivoted to face him, ignoring his suddenly wide eyes when he saw me. Thanks. "John, darling, would you or would you not have sex with your flat mate?"

He blushed. "Well, er, I appreciate the offer and everything, but-"

I threw my hands in the air again. "Not me! Jesus, why does everyone think I'm propositioning them today?"

Sherlock spoke up. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you are currently in only lace underclothes and an open dressing gown."

I spun back toward him with one hand on my hip and poked him in the chest with the other. "There is no room for your logic and reasoning in this household."

"Tell that to the bills it pays."

"John pays the bills! And I pay my own!"

"Just put on the shoes!"

"No!"

"John!"

John threw his hands up. "Just fuck already!"

We slowly swiveled toward him. I smiled sweetly and stepped forward. "Care to repeat that, darling?"

There's something about making a military man cower that makes you feel empowered. Is this what Adler feels like?

I went and put the dress on, along with the stripper heels. May as well play.

When we got back, I fell straight onto Sherlock's bed.

Sherlock hovered over me disapprovingly. "You had sex with the Woman."

I nodded into his pillow, my throat too tired.

He crossed his arms. "You also, somehow, managed to get a flash drive from between her breasts and swallow it without her knowing."

I lifted my head and croaked. "It wasn't between her breasts."

He tilted his head. "Than where-?"

I looked pointedly at his crotch.

His eyes widened. "What was your mouth-"

I raised an eyebrow.

He made a rather uncomfortable face before basically running from the room. "Brush your teeth!"

I snorted and took the flash drive, which was now not disgustingly covered in bodily fluids, from my bra and smiled before going to the living room and dropping it down Sherlock's collar. I then went to the bathroom on still wobbly legs, brushed my teeth, showered, and went to bed.


End file.
